


Forever

by Popcorn_Lover



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Multi, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:31:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7327438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popcorn_Lover/pseuds/Popcorn_Lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper, a pathologist in her thirties currently working at St. Bart's, harboured a secret.<br/>She is immortal and in the search to end her immorality, Molly found more than she asked for.<br/>*Dark Themes & Loosely Based on Forever, a U.S. TV Series*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC and this story is loosely based on Forever, a U.S. TV Series.

Mycroft Holmes watched their interaction with a cold-eyed stare. He played with his umbrella as the pair huddled around the microscope, discussing about the latest evidence. They were very much engrossed and wholly oblivious to their surroundings or at least Sherlock was. Molly raised her head, “Mycroft? Sherlock, your brother’s here,” and nudged the consulting detective in the ribs. “Ignore him and he would go away, Molly.” Sherlock told the pathologist without looking up from the eyepiece.  

Mycroft’s patience was stretched to its limit though his face did not betray him; he took extreme pride in having excellent control of his features at all times. “Mycroft must have very important matters to talk to you if he’s here personally. Don’t be like this, Sherlock.” Molly whispered to the consulting detective then asked the British Government, “Do you want some coffee, Mycroft?” to which the man declined with a polite but distant smile. “Thank you but no, Molly.”

Sherlock made an irritated noise at the back of his throat. “What is it _this time_ , Mycroft? Quickly, you have twenty minutes.” The British Government countered icily, “And I have allocated less time than that for you, brother mine.” Considering what Mycroft was about to say was national-level confidential information, the pathologist discreetly left the lab and by the time Molly returned, half an hour later just to be sure, the British Government had already left. “Mycroft left?” She questioned the consulting detective in an offhanded manner. “For good, I hope.” Molly would take that as their conversation went well.

The pathologist returned home after a busy day at the morgue, a sudden surge of crimes in London meant more bodies to cut up. A man’s arms snaked around Molly’s stomach and neck, “How long do you plan to keep up with this act, Molly?” then inhaled the smell of her hair. His actions were intimate and although the pathologist was surprised that Mycroft came to visit her so late at night where normally he would be buried with work but she was none the less delighted to see him.

“What makes you think that this is an act, Mycroft?” Molly wasted no time to kiss the British Government which he returned it with fervour. She stripped him off his three-piece suit that did not take long to accomplish since the man had the foresight to remove his jacket, waistcoat and tie while waiting for Molly at her flat. “You minx.” Knowing him, the pathologist folded them with care to avoid creases and piled them into a neat stack before setting it aside on the couch.

“How long do we have before you need to get back to work?” The British Government knew exactly which one was her bedroom and walked straight towards it without asking for permission because there was no need to. Molly followed Mycroft and closed the door even though it was just the two of them in her flat. “Half an hour at most.”

Their relationship was carried on long enough to establish certain rituals each time they had sex in order to accommodate for the British Government’s OCD and Molly did enjoy the structured side of their activity where she could look forward to what was coming, pun not intended. “So let’s ensure we make full use of every minute that you allocated for me, Mycroft.”

 

* * *

 

_January 1981_

_It was a Saturday morning and most of the residents were still asleep in their warm beds so Molly practically got the park to herself. She was strolling leisurely, passing by the playground when a boy of about seven years old collided with her. The impact from their collision proved too much for him and the boy was about to land on his bottom. Acting on her reflex, Molly grasped his shoulders to prevent him from falling down._

_“Are you alright?” She looked around and frowned at her own guess. “Where are your parents? Are you lost?” The boy looked at the ground, not answering any of her questions. She went on her hunches to lower herself to the boy’s eye level and took out a mint chocolate sweet from her pocket._

_“I’m Molly and if you tell me your name then I would give this to you.” Instead of taking the candy without a second thought like any child would, he looked at Molly warily, “How do I know if you are not trying to abduct me? Mummy told me to not take things, talk to or go with a stranger.”_

_What a very alert child, she mused. “If I’m an abductor which I’m not then what is going to stop me from kidnapping you? You know, it’s very dangerous for you to be out here alone. It’s fine if you do not want to tell me your name. Do you know your way back home?” The boy nodded solemnly, behaving past his age. “Then why don’t I send you back? Your parents must be worried sick about you.”_

_Molly obviously must have hit a soft spot because the boy then started to cry. “You are lying! Daddy and Mummy don’t want me anyone now that they have my baby brother! I don’t want to go home!” Sibling jealousy, she sighed quietly. Molly wiped away the fat tears running down his cheeks with her sleeve and did her best to comfort the boy. “There’s no parent in this world that do not love their child and your parents are no exception, they love you very much.”_

_She tried to say it with conviction but it would take more than that to persuade him. “How do you know? You don’t even know them.” Molly felt like she was going in circles and luckily was rescued by a man’s shout. “Mycroft! Where are you? Mycroft!” From a distance away, she could see a figure frantically combing the park, urgently searching for his son. Little Mycroft’s eyes lighted up at hearing his father’s voice._

_“What did I tell you? Never forget that your parents love you very much so don’t run away from home anymore because there’s no place like it. Family is all we got in this world, Mycroft. Here, take this.” Molly stuffed the sweet into his small hand and gently prodded the boy towards the direction of his father. “I like you. Will I see you again? This spot could be our meeting place.”_

_She should know better than to give a child an empty promise but going against every warning that sounded in her mind, Molly gave a nod to Mycroft, “But you cannot tell anyone about me, understand?” then watched him ran to his anxious father, “Daddy!” When the boy turned to look at Molly, she was already gone but Mycroft was sure that he would see her again because she promised him so._

_It was when Molly was eating the candy a few days later that she recollected of her promise to a little boy with a strange and rare name called Mycroft. He would not be waiting for her at the playground right? There was a chance that the boy might because children took such things rather seriously and Molly spoke from experience when Martha was around that age. She suddenly had the urge to take a walk outside._

_At the park, Molly felt like the child who took her promise too seriously instead when she could not find the boy anywhere. Molly began to make her way back home and Mycroft popped out from the bushes, catching her off guard. “I knew you would keep your word. I forgot to thank you for your sweet, it was very delicious.” He said politely._

_“You are welcome. Consider yourself lucky because today I also happened to bring some with me.” Molly was glad that she grabbed a handful of candy before going out just in case Mycroft was really waiting for her. “I hoped you did not run away from home again? Your parents know that you are here?” She wanted to make sure which the boy assured Molly this time his parents knew that he was in the park and they gave him half an hour to play._

_Looking at Mycroft eating the candies, as a responsible adult she should stop him from consuming too much but Molly knew how tasty they were, she thought best to stay by his side and send him home afterwards. It was unusual that Molly was so helpful to another person but she did not think too much of it and it was even more uncommon that they continued to meet up in such manner throughout his youth._

 

* * *

 

_September 1991_

_“Congratulations, Mycroft. I was surprised that the university did not accept you when you were younger. I always knew that you were far more intelligent than those of your age.” Molly gave a friendly pat on his shoulder. Being credited of having an IQ of over 140, Mycroft understood that she was different from others for Molly did not age at all in the last decade. The fact did not frighten him. She was his…friend, his one and probably only friend in this world. For the future British Government, less was more in the area of friends-making._

_Molly was fairly smart but not as intelligent as him which was something that Mycroft was willing to overlook on account of their long-term friendship and most importantly, since the first day they met, she had treated him not as a child but as an adult. “It had come to my attention the fact that I’m still a virgin would disturb my university studies when classmates who might one-sidedly see themselves as my friends would urge me to lose it,” Molly could see where this conversation was going and was apprehensive about it._

_“Hence I decided that you would be the best person for me to give you my virginity.” Molly asked herself before why she chose to continue this friendship with the little boy. In the eyes of others, they would say this was wrong in so many levels and she should never continue meeting him. Even though Molly could not come up with a reason to continue, she could not find a reason to stop either._

_Molly should have seen this coming, she was being selfish again. When Molly dies because that day would eventually come, she would definitely go straight to hell, if such a place does exist, for all the things she did and did not. What a sinner. “Mycroft, I’m too old for you. In university, you would meet a lot of girls so there’s no need for you to do this now. You would regret your hasty decision…” The teen cut her off, “I had given this matter my full considerations. This was not a hasty decision. I would not regret this unless you would, Molly.”_

_“You don’t understand, Mycroft.” She wondered just how they arrived to this sticky situation. “I do, Molly. You are not like us, you don’t grow old but it does not bother me.” He ignored how juvenile his words were because Mycroft really wanted her to know that he understood and kissed her softly, afraid of scaring her away. After what seemed to be the longest moment of his life, Molly finally responded and Mycroft’s heart soared at the variety of emotions rushing through his blood veins. This was what forbidden fruit tasted like and to him, the fall was worth it._

_Feeling utterly relaxed after a vigorous session of love-making, he wrapped his finger around a strand of her hair and gently kissed Molly’s cheek. Mycroft was so pleased with what had happened between them; he did not notice the change in her expression soon after it ended. In his mind, the future British Government had already came up with different ways to meet Molly after his school term commenced._

_Molly then gathered her clothes and put them on without a word, unsettling the adolescent. “From now on, we should stop meeting one another. I don’t want to end our friendship on bad terms. I wish you all the best. Find a good girl and start a family, you would be a great husband and father, Mycroft.” She pressed her lips on his cheek. It had progressed out of control, not just physically but also emotionally. Molly would take no chances at the prospect of Mycroft in danger because of her._

_This would end here, she never should have played with fire, Molly told herself. Not that she regretted it. Sinful, hell yes. Remorse, sadly none. “You are a whale, you know. Everyone else is a goldfish to me, Molly.” In the case of Mycroft, it was a compliment of the highest order. In over a hundred years, Molly met a lot of people but she would never forget him when something that wrong felt so right._

_“Someday you would find another whale, Mycroft. Forget me and move on. I’m nothing but a passer-by in your life. Don’t try to find me; I had lived long enough to consider myself an expert in disappearing and hiding if I put my mind to it. Goodbye, Mycroft.” Molly broke her word to him but kept the promise that she made to herself until he strolled right into the morgue of St. Bart's twenty years later._

_The pathologist instantly recognised Mycroft despite how long they had not seen each other but in front of Sherlock, she pretended that the two of them never met before and the British Government went along with her. Memories of him flashed through Molly’s mind like a roller coaster ride. After that day, she moved out of the neighbourhood within a week, determined to physically distance herself from Mycroft as far away as possible for his own safety even if he was never far away from her thoughts._

_Molly was not astonished at Mycroft’s accomplishments, becoming the British Government and all that, the pathologist knew of his capabilities and potential since he was young. He did well for himself. Swallowing down the bitter taste of their reunion in her mouth, the pathologist understood it was for the best that they remained this way for his sake. Yet Mycroft thought otherwise._

_Molly was walking out of St. Bart's after her shift ended when Mycroft was casually leaning on a black sedan and holding an umbrella. The British Government was waiting for her and the pathologist’s heart raced a little at that notion. “Would you like a ride back home, Miss Hooper?” There was always more to Mycroft’s surface and Molly saw his underlying question – continue this childish pretence and resume their (sexual) relationship behind the back of others, behind the back of Sherlock?_

_The pathologist never believed in having ‘no choice’, there were always other choices, other alternatives. Molly could take the tube, bus or even taxi back home but she found herself to be in the regular state of loneliness because of the curse and of course, she could always find ways to cope with it or simply get used to being lonely. However Mycroft knew her secret and just that fact was more than enough for the pathologist to board his car. Molly was a prisoner of time and she would do anything to survive._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to try and see if I could push the boundaries just a bit, hope I did not ruin my favourite character right from the start!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC and this story is loosely based on Forever, a U.S. TV Series.

Molly lifted the curtains from her window and saw Mycroft’s black sedan drove away in the dark night. She was preparing for a shower when her phone received a text.

_We would meet very soon._

_\- Adam_

The pathologist had been getting these weird messages where each of them was sent from different numbers and it continued for few months now. Who in the world is this man named Adam? Exhausted, Molly decided to deal with it tomorrow.

It was Moran who opened the door for her, “Good morning, Molly.” The pathologist inclined her head at his greeting. “Is James in?” Before he could answer, Moriarty stood at the top of the stairs and exclaimed, “When will you stop calling me James, Molls?” She seated herself at one of the chairs and took out her phone, “When you stop calling me Molls, James.” Moriarty yawned delicately and tied his dressing gown before sitting down across Molly.

The consulting criminal read the messages and passed it over to his assistant, standing by his side. “I’m sure your Sherlock could help you in this?” Moriarty sipped his coffee and looked at Molly over his cup. “You know very well why I can’t, James.” The pathologist snapped at him and his eyes widened in anger which the sniper swiftly intervened, “Do you need us to send a couple of men to protect you, Molly?” She shook her head. “This is probably nothing but I just wanted to make sure of it. Thank you Sebastian”

Moriarty rolled his eyes at Moran behaving like a boy having a school crush, “For god’s sake, Molls, just shag him. Look at that boy; he’s being lusting after you since our last threesome which was ages ago. Seb even called your name when I took him yesterday, how rude.” The consulting criminal mentioned jealously to her. Turning a blind eye to the sniper’s rare blush, Molly felt the need to voice out her opinions about Moriarty’s obsession with the consulting detective.

“You got lucky the last time, James. Stop playing with Sherlock Holmes or you would regret it one day.” The consulting criminal nearly lunged at her had Moran not stopped him. “I got lucky? He’s the one that got lucky! I should have killed him when I had the chance and it’s all thanks to that stupid woman, Irene Adler! Since when did you give a hoot to who I want to kill? Is Sherlock Holmes your latest boy toy? That’s why you are so concerned about him? Is it?!”

Moriarty pushed the sniper away and pressed his forehead to hers, “There’s no need to ruin our relationship because of him right, Molls? Don’t _ever_ bring this topic up again.” The consulting criminal held Molly’s face and kissed her before he went upstairs, “To be on the safe side, stay indoors as much as possible, luv.” She should not had saved the duo in the first place or in retrospect fucked them, Molly thought wryly.    

_December 2006_

_Multiple shots were fired and it just seemed to Molly that trouble was constantly nearby. Her first instinct was to walk away but she then recalled of her past. On impulse, Molly ran in the direction where she heard the shots. She scanned the place before venturing in further, a gun in her hand. This time round, Molly would like to help someone yet at the same time allow her curse to still remain as a secret. She was always a greedy person._

_Confirming that the coast was clear, Molly tucked back her gun and walked towards the two men lying on the ground that were both bleeding quite profusely. “Don’t shoot! I’m here to help you.” She explained to the taller man that pointed a gun at her despite his own injuries. “Let her help, Seb. If she’s up to no good, we could always kill her later.” Molly did not know who they were but she would rescue them not because she was nice, it was done purely on hopes to redeem herself._

_“By the way, I’m James Moriarty, call me Jim though and he’s Sebastian Moran however only I could call him Seb.” The smaller man managed to introduce themselves while his face got paler as he lost more blood. Maybe God was still punishing her and not ready to forgive Molly where not only was she unable to redeem herself and also add on to her list of sins by saving them._

_Villains or not, Molly would finish what she started. “I’m Molly Hooper. If you two could stand up and make your way over to my flat which is just a few blocks away, I have tools to extract the bullets and stich you up before the both of you die from excessive loss of blood.”_

 

* * *

 

“Molly? You don’t have to work today?” Mrs Hudson led the pathologist to the kitchen table, “It’s my day off so I thought of visiting you. It’s been a while since I did….I’m sorry, Martha. I’m a terrible mother.” All these years, Molly felt guilt toward her daughter yet the pathologist could not really talk about it because it would require admitting that she did an appalling job at parenting.

“You are not a bad mother. If anything, you are an unconventional one and it’s all due to your special circumstances. I know you love me and family is all we got right? I never thanked you for adopting me.” Mrs Hudson held Molly’s hands and for a long time, the mother and daughter finally had a heartfelt conversation.

_August 1940_

_The air raid sirens sounded and people made their way to hide in the nearest shelter when the bombs started to rain on London. It was relentless and the explosions rang loudly in Molly’s ears, temporarily blocking out the screams and cries of others. From her position, she could see fires, rubbles from collapsed buildings and occasionally corpses or body parts. Feeling blood running down her head, Molly staunched the wound with a handkerchief and made her way to safety._

_She heard a soft cry emitting from a bundle lying in a woman’s arms that looked gravely injured. “Help…Help save my child. Please…S-save my daughter….” Molly confessed that she did hesitate; minding her own business was how she was able to remain undetected till now but the poor woman grabbed her ankle. Molly did not want to be a sinner once again so she squatted down and picked up the baby. “What’s her name?”_

_The woman smiled lightly, “Martha,” then passed away. Martha began to cry more loudly and remembering that the air raid was still going on, Molly had no choice but to leave behind the baby’s mother and hide in the Underground shelter. She took away the only jewellery of that woman, a small brooch, hoping that it might contain some sort of a lead to find the rest of Martha’s family if they were still alive after this damn war so Molly could send her back to them. She was in no condition to raise a child anyway._

 

* * *

 

_October 1950_

_“Martha, you would stay here with Mrs Lawler and she would take good care of you okay? I-I need to leave. This,” Molly showed her a brooch, “is your birth mother’s. I could not find anything on it that might help in finding your real family. Nevertheless, I want you to keep it where maybe one day you would find them using this brooch…” Over the years, she grew attached to Martha against her own wishes and saw this little angel as her daughter but Molly also knew that her life simply could not allow a child in it._

_Martha would grow up, grow old and someday die which was not something Molly believed she could handle. Molly would never get used to being left behind, watching people that she knew and loved died one after another. She already made the mistake of loving this child but luckily there was still time to break the bond even if her heart was hurting at the thought of abandoning her. It was selfish of Molly to do this but it was a necessary evil or was it really so?_

_Perhaps if she explained her story to Martha, she would understand and somehow this would work out by itself? No, it would pose too much of a risk and even endanger the child because she knew Molly’s secret. “Don’t leave me here, Mummy! You are my only family and I want to stay by your side. I don’t want Mummy to be all alone. I would be good, I promise, Mummy. Please!” Martha hugged her tightly and successfully broke Molly’s resolution._

_She would find a way to make this work. They would find a way._

 

* * *

 

_It’s time to reunite, don’t you think?_

_\- Adam_

Molly stepped into the house and immediately she smelt blood. It was a sizable amount of it and the pathologist regretted not bringing a gun with her. It might boggle the minds of others yet Molly felt safe when she was with the consulting criminal and sniper. The pathologist made it clear to them she did not approve of their doings and Molly understood that people would find it hard to believe it but she still considered them as friends for the lack of a better term to describe their relationship.

“We are all sinners, James.” It was what Molly used to tell him which the consulting criminal laughed at her statement. Practice what you preach and since the pathologist could not do that then who was she to condemn the criminal duo? Molly was not much of a saint herself; she did unspeakable things in the past too. The pathologist knew she would pay for her sins someday, Molly just did not realise that her payback would be today.

_June 1899_

_The dark alleys were never a safe choice especially in the night but it would shorten Molly’s journey by half an hour. Perhaps God was punishing her for being too greedy and wanted an extra thirty minutes when she was already immortal so Molly ended up witnessing a crime that would haunt her until her last breath._

_“There’s nothing to see here. Go away or I’ll shoot you too!” The man waved his gun at her while the other man was pinned to the wall, frightened out of his wits with his eyes silently begging for Molly’s help. If she was killed then her secret would be revealed, the very one that Molly worked so hard to keep and all her efforts would be for nothing._

_“Leave!” So Molly ran, she ran away and not once turned her head because Molly was afraid. She was afraid that the man would change his mind and come after her so to remove all possible witnesses. From that moment on, it became clear to Molly that this would follow her for as long as she shall live. She heard a shot and ran even faster but one could never outrun one’s sins._

_Five days later, Molly read a newspaper article about a man shot to death and his body disposed into the river which rendered him unrecognisable so his wife could only identify her husband by the clothes he wore on the night of his disappearance. The sole breadwinner left behind a wife and their seven children where the youngest was a mere four month old baby. Molly wanted to leave some money for that family even if her guilt would never be eased and she manged to find out their address._

_When Molly arrived, the house was engulfed in flames. What she heard from the neighbours that gathered outside and gossiped was that the wife was unable to support all seven children by herself but unwilling to give away any of them to lessen her burden so in the end she chose to die together as one family. Molly kept that article to remind herself the family she singlehandedly destroyed because of her own selfishness, the nine lives that she would forever be held responsible for._

“James? Sebastian? Who did this?” She tried to untie them but Molly felt the gun barrel at the back of her head and slowly stood up with her hands raised. “It’s been a while, Molly and you still look as wonderful as ever.” The pathologist would never forget that voice. “Henry? I thought…you were dead?”

Adam smiled at her. “I expected a more enthusiastic welcome from my wife but you must be in great shock and please, call me Adam. I found this name to be more appropriate for me. The first man created by God. You died and revived too, remember? So why would the same thing not happen to me?”

“Why did you not tell me? Did you know what I went through for two hundred years?” Adam puckered his brows. “Well, I knew exactly who you fucked with throughout the years if that’s what you meant, Molly. Besides, I needed time to build up my power. After I found out I was immortal, I understood that this was my calling. I was the chosen one to rule this world. I’m Adam and you are Eve, don’t you see? If we join forces, nothing would be able to stop us. Nobody could stop us, Molly.”

“No. No, that’s not going to happen, Henry, Adam, whatever your name is. I could not imagine what would happen if the world knew of our secret. Stop this insanity! Immortality is not a gift, it’s a curse!” The consulting criminal giggled. “Finally I met someone crazier than me. I know Molls; you could never make her do things that she would not want to do.” His head gave a shake, “No, you could not.” Moriarty fearlessly locked his eyes with Adam which just made ‘the chosen one’ all the more infuriated.

“You always needed to be taught the hard way, Molly,” the pathologist winced at his words, “then don’t blame me for killing him.” He shoved the gun into Moriarty’s mouth and fired. Moran reacted violently and Adam stabbed a knife into his thigh which the sniper bit down the scream, not wanting to show his weak side to that man. “No! Stop, Adam! Stop it!”

Adam wiped away the consulting criminal’s blood from his face with a towel and pulled out the knife from Moran’s thigh, “How are you going to stop me? Kill me? You know you can’t so what’s your choice, Molly? Be my Eve or my foe? Choose wisely,” then placed it at the sniper’s throat. “Molly, just go! He would not do anything to me!” Adam questioned lightly, “Oh, really? I do not like it when people challenged me. Don’t tell me you fell in love with my wife, Moran? How pathetic because she never gave a shit about you.”

He slit the sniper’s throat and watched him bled to his death. “Might as well they are dead now so I could absorb their criminal network as the latest addition to my empire. They should not have tracked me down; they did that for you, didn’t they? Such loyalty, pity I did not like them otherwise they would have been great slaves to play with.” Molly’s knees buckled and she half-crumpled to the floor. “You bastard! You are a sick man, do you know that?”

“And if you don’t listen to me as a good wife should, this would just be the start of your nightmare. I can’t kill you but I can kill the people that you cared so much about. Do consider my offer, Molly.” Adam was wrong, her nightmare never stopped since the day she married that monster.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More about Molly's past because for this story, the past is equally important. Don't hate her! Hate me if you must...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC and this story is loosely based on Forever, a U.S. TV Series.

_March 1845_

_The marriage between Henry Page and Molly Hooper was an extremely unhappy one and everyone knew it. Her husband had a long string of mistresses and illegitimate children while his wife had bruises on her arms, neck and sometimes face to prove it. No amount of cloth could cover up the beatings._

_Molly nowadays rarely visited her parents since Mother would just cry at the sight of her only child suffering yet helpless with the ongoing situation and Father would only ignore her, reluctant to concede that he made a mistake in arranging such a match for his daughter that practically destroyed the rest of her life._

_The couple were travelling to Scotland where during the unfortunate journey, they encountered highwaymen. Instead of giving in to the demands of handing over all of their valuables, Molly’s hot-headed husband decided to fight against the small group of robbers by himself after they killed all of their servants. Without hesitation, the leader shot Henry and turned to Molly. It was a futile attempt but her fear propelled Molly to flee from the scene and she was shot from the back._

_Molly tripped and rolled down the slope before falling into the nearby river. Her heavy shirts began to pull her down to the bottom of the river. Molly wanted to shout for help but ended up gulping in more water and she soon lost consciousness. By the time Molly woke up, it was already dark. Dragging herself out of the water, she found herself with no wounds and for a moment thought that the robbery was nothing but a dream._

_Mystified, Molly climbed over the slope and saw the carriage they were riding earlier on was reduced to ashes and the smell of burnt flesh filled up her nostrils. Then matters took a turn for the worse when constables appeared and arrested Molly, claiming that she was responsible for killing her husband and also their servants so no one would ever know of her crimes. It was as if she entered a different world. Molly tried to explain but the police did not believe her, why would they when her story sounded so implausible?_

 

* * *

 

The pathologist reached her flat, feeling like a lost soul that wandered for far too long and an arm reached out, stopping Molly in her tracks. “Are you feeling well? You look pale, Molly.” The British Government asked with concern evident on his face. “I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry. Don’t tell me you came here just to ask me that, Mycroft? Go, you must be very busy.” She would not implicate him, not when Molly now knew of her husband’s existence. He might even be watching them.

Whatever Mycroft wanted to say, Molly interrupted him. “Do you trust me? Do you…believe in me?” His look spoke for himself. The pathologist did not dare to tell him that his trust in her was deeply displaced because she needed it badly when no one else would believe her, Molly’s parents did not while Martha would but it would be solely and blindly based on the fact that she’s her mother.

“Sir…” Mycroft’s driver respectfully urged him. Molly opened the door and lightly pushed him into the car. The British Government grabbed her wrist, “I would see you tonight?” The pathologist gave him a small smile, “If you are free,” and pulled herself free of Mycroft’s hold. Molly turned around after the black sedan drove off and heard an explosion seconds later. The sound waves pushed her onto the ground and Molly could feel the heat on her back.  

All she could hear was sharp buzzing but that did not stop the pathologist from unsteadily rushing over to the damaged car. The driver was killed instantaneously and ignoring the warning of others that the vehicle might explode the second time, Molly hauled Mycroft out of it. “Call the ambulance!” Shouting to the onlookers, she tried to not let the British Government fall into unconsciousness, fearing that he might never wake up again.

“Don’t sleep, Mycroft! Stay awake, stay awake!” The pathologist knew she had to remain calm in order to help him but Molly could barely hold herself together. Adam did this, it must be; he planted a bomb in Mycroft’s car. It was all her fault. “You l-lied, Molly. I...never found another whale…I became the British Government…partly because I wanted to f-find you…I still kept the sweet wrapper that you gave me, s-silly me…When I went back home, I waited for you at the playground every…day…”

 

* * *

 

_Later that week_

“What are you doing here? You are trespassing, get out! I have a gun!” Anyone would have taken the warning seriously if the woman who uttered it was wearing anything aside from a towel wrapped around her body and another around her head. “Kitty Riley? The reporter who had been covering my story right from the start?” It was not hard to deduce since there was a board filled with Molly’s information sitting on the dinner table.

“And apparently sleeping with your informant too. Mixing business with pleasure? So much for professionalism, Miss Riley.” Adam came out of the bedroom wearing a bathrobe and was startled by Molly’s presence. “Stay away from Darren! You would no longer harm or threaten him! You don’t have to worry anymore, baby. Molly Hooper would soon be arrested for her crimes and you could finally escape from her.” The reporter bravely stood in front of ‘Darren’, acting as a human shield protecting him against the pathologist while he cowered with fear.

“Yet you would shoot me but not call the police?” Molly raised one eyebrow at the comical pair and ‘Darren’ smirked behind the reporter’s back. “Because you are still more of a reporter than a law-abiding citizen of this nation,” the pathologist said sarcastically. “How about a one-to-one interview? Come to St. Bart's tomorrow morning and you would have your big scope.” Before Kitty Riley could nod, Molly had already left.        

“I’m so sorry, Sherlock.” Molly could not do this alone and the first name that came to her mind was the consulting detective. The police was probably looking everywhere for her but sometimes the most dangerous place was the safest. Also, the pathologist knew the positions of all security cameras in the lab and morgue to avoid detection.

Sherlock obliged Molly by turning around but remained silent. At least his eyes did not show contempt, disgust or anger which she fully deserved. “If I was not everything that you think I am – everything that I think I am – would you still want to help me?"

“What do you need?” Molly risked the chance of getting caught and decided to come here but she was unsure of what to expect from Sherlock, if he would aid her or send her to the Scotland Yard so his reply did surprise her. Molly started to walk towards the consulting detective; her eyes shining bright with emotions that the pathologist tried very hard to hide.  

“Sherlock, I think I’m going to die.” To know if one led a meaningful life, count not the number of supposed friends one had when alive but the number of people who would truly mourn for one’s passing. Molly supposed only Martha would cry at her death and the reason being she was her mother even if the pathologist was a lousy one. It would seem that she had lived her two hundred years of life in vain, Molly chuckled dryly.

“What do you need?” One tear escaped Molly’s tight defence as she moved closer to Sherlock. The pathologist’s death would be considered as confessing to crimes that she never committed but Molly could see no other way out.

“You.” The consulting detective was her only hope. If breaking Molly down was what Adam wanted then he achieved it.

“I always wanted to kiss you, Molly.” And Sherlock did just that. Once his lips met hers, the consulting detective knew there was no turning back for him. He effortlessly lifted the pathologist onto the laboratory table. To make space, his long arm swept the beakers away, sending them crashing to the floor. The sound of broken glass aided Molly in regaining some sense. “First time should never take place on a table, Sherlock.”

Molly hopped down from the table and led Sherlock to her office which had a makeshift bed. She used to force him to rest on it while waiting for lab results when the consulting detective had not shut his eyes for days working on a case. “Did you say the same thing to Mycroft before?” The pathologist froze and Sherlock wondered if his unfiltered words had spoilt everything.

“No, not exactly,” Molly answered truthfully. “I knew you and Miss Adler did not progress to this stage. Regardless of the reason, now that you know how I really am, do you still want to have sex with me? Most importantly, give your virginity to me? Because, Sherlock, I do not want you to regret.” Maybe the fact that she was dying soon was clouding her judgment but not all of her wits left Molly entirely.

Sherlock’s response was to pull the pathologist right under him and resume kissing her. Even though his brother met Molly first, tonight she was his. Guilt towards Mycroft was pushed far away from his mind when time was slipping through Sherlock’s hands like sand. Besides, the consulting detective always bent the rules to suit him and to his advantage. Mycroft had the pathologist long enough while Sherlock could only have her for a mere few hours.

If he met her before his brother, what would happen instead? Change what one could and accept when one could not. For the consulting detective, pondering on matters that did not happen equalled to a total wastage of time so it was best to focus on the present, the only thing that Sherlock could control and he chose to spend one night with Molly, the night before she had to die.

Molly was honest to Mycroft when she said this ‘Molly Hooper, the pathologist’ was not an act, at least not completely. Before she met the British Government again two decades later, Molly had developed feelings for the consulting detective. However she could not let herself be in love, whether it was with Mycroft, Sherlock, James or even Sebastian, not when the pathologist was cursed.

It took them the rest of the night to plan and by next morning, the stage was set. Her finale was ready for show. Molly was thankful that Sherlock did not ask her any questions about it but the doubt was there. “You are not going to ask me about what happened?”

“Is there a need to?” The consulting detective looked at her where the belief in his eyes never wavered. On second thought, perhaps the pathologist’s life was not totally led in vain. Molly opened her mouth but bit her lower lip and in the end chose to not say it. Soon they were informed that Kitty Riley was on her way to St. Bart's and ETA in approximate twenty-five minutes.

“About last night…” Sherlock broke off his sentence; the uncertainty in his voice was prominent so the pathologist took over. “It was born out of necessity. You needed something and I was able to provide it.” Molly gave the consulting detective what she hoped was a reassuring smile but the topic was not meant to be comfortable and he nodded with a sober face.

Molly knew the annoying and rude behaviour acted as armour to his sensitive soul but she did not want Sherlock to be under any false impressions because that would only hurt him even more so the pathologist left. She was never the right person for anyone. “I remembered you, Molly. After all these years, I had not forgotten about you.” The consulting detective acknowledged it out loud to the empty room.

Standing at the rooftop, Molly had a few precious minutes to herself before the show began. She initially wanted to tell Sherlock about their fleeting encounter before they were officially introduced in St. Bart's. Molly found a young man in his early twenties obviously high on drugs and alone. He was lying in the gutter and despite being a shallow one; he would have most likely drowned himself given his condition.

Feeling helpful on that particular day, Molly heaved him of the foul-smelling gutter and shook him until he woke up. His eyes blinked at her as he slowly got his bearings back. She heard multiple footsteps moving towards them and guessed someone was coming to pick him up after all. Molly hid in one corner and watched as two of them lugged the young man to his feet while the third man was speaking very angrily to him.

Molly could not see the older man or hear his words clearly but it was obvious that they knew him well enough so considering to have completed her ‘kind act of the day’, she departed but not before catching the name of that young man, Sherlock.

Imagine Molly’s surprise when she found out the man she helped was Mycroft’s brother. Nonetheless their brief meeting took place at a time where it was not one of Sherlock’s best moments, one that left much to be desired and expected of him so Molly decided to not stir up the consulting detective’s rather unsavoury past because the pathologist saw no point in it and let the sleeping dogs lie.

With five more minutes to go, Molly called Mrs Hudson and she picked up after two rings. “Molly? Is that you? Mum? Where are you? Are you alright? Scotland Yard is looking everywhere for you.” The pathologist took a while to recover. “Yes, I know. Forgive me, Martha. You deserved a better mother but having you was the greatest joy in my life. Take care of yourself and I love you, my dear. Goodbye.”  

Molly quickly ended the call, not trusting herself that she would be able to continue talking any longer. From the vantage point, she could see Kitty Riley alighting from the cab and dialled her number. On the other hand, at 221B, Mrs Hudson was desperately trying to call back Molly but the line was engaged.

“Miss Riley, I’m glad that you turned up for our interview. Any reporter worth of their salt would not miss this opportunity. Stop right there, Miss Riley. Don’t worry, I did promise you a big scope yesterday, didn’t I? Look up; I’m at the rooftop of St. Bart's. Keep your eyes on me and listen very carefully as to what I’m going to say next. I am not a killer and I would prove my innocence with this fall.”

Molly threw away her phone, drew in a deep breath and took the plunge. Kitty Riley screamed at the sight before her and a sickening thud was heard soon after. Her reporter’s instincts kicked in and she ran towards the gathering crowd. The reporter stared at the unmoving and bloodied body of the pathologist lying in front of her. “She’s dead, she’s really dead. Oh god, Molly Hooper killed herself,” Kitty Riley muttered in shock.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to know how far I could go with this *apologetic smile*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sherlock BBC and this story is loosely based on Forever, a U.S. TV Series.

Molly was proven wrong; she did not live her life in absolute vain. There were more people than she imagined who showed up to her funeral. Mrs Hudson stood in front of Molly’s grave, flanked by Sherlock and John with Greg and Mike behind them. No child should ever die before their parents and Martha never really had a normal childhood or life when she got a mother like her so twisted as it was, Molly wanted to give her daughter something that should naturally take place in its own right. Parents that died before their children did.  

 

* * *

 

_May 1845_

_The trial was quick. Molly was deemed mentally unstable and sentenced to Bedlam for treatment. She still naïvely hoped that one day this nightmare would end. Not once did her parents visit her, not when she was detained or when she was institutionalized. Initially Molly was just an embarrassment that she was beaten up by her husband but now Molly became the disgrace of her family by allegedly killing Henry as she was no longer able to endure her husband’s decade-long of abuse and infidelity._

_The public’s opinion did not matter the most to Molly, it was her parents’ and clearly they thought her capable of murder and not believed a word of her dubious story, agreeing that she was indeed insane. Everything just seemed like a cruel joke played on her. For all Molly knew, she might actually be crazy. Nothing made sense anymore. The asylum was quiet for the patients were asleep; either exhausted from being subjected to a whole day of water treatment or was sedated in high dosage. All except for one._

_Molly was considered to be on good behaviour today during her treatment and the staff rewarded her by not administrating drugs into her system that forced Molly to sleep. She hated sleeping; sometimes more than the treatments because it gave her nightmares that Molly could not wake up from. Sleep itself was a nightmare, Molly laughed softly to herself. Staying at Bedlam even for a short period of time would turn anyone that was sane to soon otherwise._

_Death would be the answer to her question and Molly had half an hour to do it before the staff made their rounds again. Throwing the bedsheet over a beam in the ceiling, she tied a secure knot and placed her head through the loop. Leaping off the bed, Molly’s body swung like a pendulum. As the momentum slowed down, her neck that carried all of the weight broke and she died. The staff heard sounds from Molly’s room and they hurried to get the keys to open it, only to find her missing._

_Molly gasped for air as she made her way to the surface. Molly realised maybe there was a pattern where each time she died, Molly would always seem to end up in a river. Immortal, that was the curse set upon her. How inconvenient when she wanted to kill herself and having to find out that she could not. Irony at its best. Shivering, Molly swam to the river bank. Well, at least she still managed to escape from the institution._

 

* * *

 

Molly should not be here, not when she was just pronounced dead to the world but a killer nonetheless. Yet, the pathologist needed to see Mycroft again, to make sure that he would be alright. “Thank you, Sherlock. Without you, my plan would not have worked. Thank you for trusting me.”

The consulting detective stood beside her and they looked through the window where Mycroft, still unconscious, was lying quietly on the hospital bed. “I have always trusted you, Molly.” The pathologist whispered bitterly, “I don’t deserve it.” Sherlock directed his stare at her while Molly kept her eyes fixed on his brother and exhaled silently, “It’s not for you to decide. Trust is earned, and also given. Mycroft chose to trust you.”

“And I let him down.” He turned his head back with a shrug. “As for that, you would have to ask him yourself. Mycroft would be fine, Molly. The doctor said his injuries were serious but he would recover.” Sherlock’s words were supposed to comfort the pathologist but it also acted as a smoothing balm for himself.

They might not see each other eye to eye all the time but Sherlock’s world would become unbalanced if Mycroft’s gone and that would be the British Government’s fault so he had to be alright or Sherlock would kill him for disrupting his life like that.        

“Before I leave, I need your help for one last time.” Sherlock answered easily, “What do you need, Molly?” It would be the consulting detective’s catchphrase if he was not careful.

_I had thoroughly enjoyed your show, Molly._

_But have you decided?_

_\- Adam_

It was cold standing in the unused train station, one that was built but never opened. Molly brandished a 19th century firearm, “Looks familiar? It was the exact one that killed us. You see, I came up with a theory that if you were killed again by the same weapon which contributed to your first death, you would lose your immortality.” Adam smiled condescendingly at her, “Like I would believe you and your nonsense.”

The pathologist took aim, “Would you like to know if I’m right? I’m not Molly Hooper from the past. I should have fought back a long time ago but I did not. I would not sit back and do nothing anymore. All of this would end today.” The determination on her face swayed Adam and he flashed his trump card. “Although I have my doubts about this but I’m a cautious man. My men are with Martha Hudson right now so if you dare to even think of killing me, she would die first.”

Molly frowned, “How would I know that you are not lying through your teeth just to live?” Adam tilted his head and taunted her, “You have no choice but to believe me.” The draft entered the tunnel, making howling noises “What do you want? What must I do for you to leave me alone?” The firearm began to shake, indicating her fragile state of mind.

“Give the gun to me and I would release your daughter. We could then start another round of cat and mouse. The two of us have all the time in the world and this is the most fun I had in years, thanks to you. I’m a man of my words, Molly.” She lowered the firearm and threw it onto the ground, resigned with the situation.

Adam picked up the weapon, “You know, I was wrong. There is someone that could stop me and that’s you, Molly,” aiming it at the pathologist. “Therefore you are a threat and a threat must be removed. A friend is better than an enemy but how many friends would stay for long so a dead enemy is better than a friend, don’t you agree?”

The shot echoed within the tunnel. Molly’s shirt turned dark from soaking up the blood that she lost and the pathologist fell to the ground. Lying on her back, Molly’s hand stretched out to Adam and she mumbled. He rolled his eyes but bent down nevertheless. “I meant…what I said…Henry.”  

She took out a syringe from her pocket and injected air into his neck. Suffering from an embolism that resulted in locked-in syndrome, Adam collapsed next to the pathologist. One would think after dying a couple of times, death would become easier to deal with. No, each death was just as bad as the previous one and Molly hated the feeling of crossing the line from the living to the dead.

The pathologist had lived a long life which was filled with painful memories, tears and mistakes but where there was darkness, there would also be light. Her time with Martha and in St. Bart's was good, very good. It was the highlight of her life and she would forever treasure it. Overcome with sleepiness, Molly went in a deep slumber. When the Scotland Yard arrived, all they found was a paralysed man and a pool of blood.

Molly accidently swallowed some water and choked as she swam towards the river bank. A hand was offered to the pathologist to help pull her out of the river. “Molly Hooper? I’m The Doctor, pleasure to meet you.” Behind him was a blue police box, how strange.

 

* * *

 

_February 2023_

“One is an individual event, two is an occurrence and three is no coincidence. The carnations would always appear at Mrs Hudson’s grave every year without fail when it was her death anniversary. Mrs Hudson did not have any children so the flowers were not for her as a mother, it was from her mother.” Molly smiled at the British Government’s logical conclusion. “I was there when Martha passed away. In the end, my daughter still died before me,” the pathologist turned around, “and how are you, Mycroft?”

“What happened to me was not your fault, Molly.” He fell into step with her and she made an inaudible reply then Molly recollected something. “Oh, The Doctor asked me to send his regards to you. He said the two of you knew each other.” Mycroft gave a soft laugh, “Yes, well, I supposed we could be considered as acquaintances. Might I ask about the Daleks’ situation?”

The pathologist believed they were more than acquaintances if he knew about The Doctor’s arguably greatest enemies. “Quiet for now, which usually meant that they are plotting something but like always, he would defeat them.” Molly said firmly. She wished that the street they were walking on would never end but being immortal; there was always time for farewells.

“Mycroft, you don’t have to find a whale to live with.” The British Government gave an incredulous look, “are you asking me to _lower_ my standards, Molly?” Despite herself the pathologist giggled. In sync, the pair stopped at the junction. “Here,” Mycroft handed her a mint chocolate sweet, it was the same brand and still tasted the same, Molly thought to herself as she popped the candy into her mouth. Some things just did not change.

“See you, Mycroft.” Surprised, the British Government asked, “You would?” Molly grinned, “More than you realised.” The pathologist waved at him as she walked her way back to the TARDIS where The Doctor was waiting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not help myself but include some elements of Doctor Who into my ending and make Molly Hooper The Doctor's companion. This would probably be my 'darkest' fic still I would be lying to you readers if I said that I did not enjoy writing this even though the content might be uncomfortable for some (terribly sorry about that!) For those who read the entire story, I appreciated it and thank you :D


End file.
